


Art or Character

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Maygra's Shadow Riders universe; Chris and Buck return from a long break to find things very changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art or Character

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mag 7 Bingo challenge 'Bridle'.
> 
> If you know the universe, you know it's dark, and bloody and full of issues of consent. If you don't know the universe, well, see above. It's the ultimate supernatural construction in that you have vampires (Chris and Buck), werewolves/shapeshifters (Josiah, Nathan, Ezra, and JD), and one half-human/half-demon (Vin) who are struggling to save the world and their own souls at the same time.
> 
> The current timeline (with links) is located here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/229083
> 
> Unbetaed – feel free to let me know how it doesn't work.
> 
> This was motivated by the following quotes from others of Maygra's stories:
> 
>  **From "Inter Vivos" Set in 1904 St. Louis:**
> 
>  _A year ago, he'd have come to Chris or Buck and offered his throat or his arm and ask them to take it all, to take him far past oblivion and into death where he could avoid all the pain and anger and above all isolation that he experienced in having a demon attached to his soul and making his life a misery._
> 
>  _Chasing his own tail. There was a point where he had to trust Vin; to trust Josiah and Nathan and Ezra and JD with the same faith he gave to Buck. Vin was blooded now, as much himself as he ever was, the same man Chris had trusted for several years to watch his back. Maybe it was worse to know that the person who trusted Vin the least was Vin himself._
> 
>  _This was a part of Vin Chris had never seen or even guessed at. And there were times when he wasn't fully convinced it was all Vin and not just some residual influence of the demon. Right now, though, he was pretty sure it was; Vin being pushy but not actually taking the lead. Only encouraging Chris to continue on and that was a revelation and a joy all its own._
> 
>  **From "Storm Winds", set in 'the present':**
> 
>  _Still, JD had shamed the older of them when they'd realized there was more going on than Vin's possession. Shamed Chris most of all though he'd never said. He and Buck had gotten far too good at denying the lust and desire that accompanied the need to bleed Vin out to keep him weak, never once thinking that it might not be entirely one-sided, or entirely a manifestation of the demon's power of seduction._
> 
>  _That Vin came to them every night to be blooded might have given them a clue had they noticed it. They thought it weakness that kept him close when they were done._
> 
>  _It had taken a man they all thought still a boy in some ways to let them know Vin was, on top of all the rest, lonely._

1902, before "Inter Vivos"

 _“There is no art in turning a goddess into a witch, a virgin into a whore, but the opposite operation, to give dignity to what has been scorned, to make the degraded disireable, that calls for art or for character.”_ \- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

 

"It's not what we wanted to do." Josiah shook his head, lifting one hand to wipe his brow. There was a long laceration that was healing but Chris saw that it still had places that bled. The lines of Josiah's face were deeper than usual, his features tight. It made him look old, as if he'd finally aged the twenty-eight years since this nightmare had started. "But we couldn't control him. The demon - " He stopped and looked away. Chris saw the something else in his face then, something he didn't like.

"What?" he asked, stepping in closer to the other man. "What did he do this time?"

Josiah closed his eyes and in the dim light of the room's lamps, he thought he saw the older man's face flush. "No one's hurt – well, not bad," Josiah answered, and his voice sounded as tired as he looked. He rolled his shoulder slightly, wincing as it moved, and Chris saw the way his shirt pulled, the upper chest bulkier than usual. The top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned which was uncommon for him, and he was holding his arm awkwardly.

'Not bad' Josiah had said, but bad enough. Chris drew in a deep breath, considering the possibilities. "Claws?" he asked, thinking of the ways the demon was changing. When he and Buck had left five days ago, they'd left on what they'd hoped was a period of calm. The demon hadn't shown himself for several days, after three long, spectacular days of Akmana using every manipulation in his vast repertoire to get free. Vin said that McAllister wasn't close, but they could no longer trust Vin's word about anything.

Chris was finding it harder and harder to remember a time when they had been able to.

"Teeth," Josiah sighed. He said it so quietly that at first, Chris almost didn't hear him.

"Teeth?" Chris snapped. "You let him get close enough – how the hell did he get close enough to use his teeth – his fangs?"

But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. The daevas was a seducer – a supernatural, god-like seducer whose strongest influence was on those who were still alive. It was part of why they had put certain protocols in place. It was part of why he and Buck had had to leave for a while.

"You were supposed to keep him chained up," he said shortly, anger burning in his belly. "Chained up, locked up, drugged to death – what the hell happened?"

"He's stopped eating. The silver of the cuffs is hurting him too much. Nathan was worried about giving him any more of the morphine, and since we hadn't seen the demon in days - "

"He won't die," Chris spat. "It's not possible to kill him as long as he's possessed."

Josiah turned his head slightly, finally looking at Chris. In the flickering light, his grey eyes were washed out. "So you keep saying. But he can hurt, Chris, and he was."

Chris stared at him, feeling the anger working its way up his throat. It prompted the words that spewed out of his mouth. "He deserves to hurt – he deserves to suffer for what he's done. Did you forget how he's killed, how he's raped – did you forget - "

"We forgot nothing," Josiah cut him off, his voice hard. "We can't forget any of that. But that wasn't Vin – that was the demon. Have you forgotten that Vin is still in there, too? Have you forgotten him?"

Josiah wasn't yelling, but the anger in his voice was enough to give Chris pause. "No, I haven't forgotten him," he said, keeping his voice even. "But he's not the danger, and you damned well know that." He watched Josiah, seeing the slump in his broad shoulders as the anger melted away to be replaced with sadness. "Fangs?" he asked after at time. "How bad?"

Josiah shook his head. "Not as bad as the claws," he said quietly. "Deeper, though. He wouldn't let go."

No, the daespan wouldn't, not when it thought it was winning.

He wasn't aware of moving, only of the thoughts rushing through his head, blocking out the sound of Josiah calling after him. He felt the coolness of the night air as he left the confines of the deserted farmhouse they were using as their current 'home', heard the rustle of the grass as he marched across it toward the run-down stable. The moon was bright, a crescent moon that seemed to be laughing at him. At them.

Inside the stable, Buck and JD were talking as they curried the horses Chris and Buck had ridden in on a short time ago. They greeted him as he walked in, but his mind was already running over the details of what he needed and how to do it.

They never should have left the others on their own – it was too much to try to control Vin for that long without a respite. Without the regular bleedings that kept the demon under control.

He was aware of the the conversation behind him, then of the steps that warned of Buck coming close as JD's scent faded. But he kept working, attaching the curved piece of metal to the leather straps, concentrating on what he knew needed doing, and on the memory of Vin's face contorted in a victorious grin, blood dripping from the tip of his nose and running in rivelets from the corners of his lips. It wasn't a hard stretch to imagine that same expression on his face in the aftermath of biting Josiah, of the blood being that of the the former priest himself.

"You going riding?" Buck asked. "We just got back."

"Vin bit Josiah," he answered, still working the tack. "Got his fangs into him good."

He felt Buck brush against him as he stepped even closer. "Chris," he said quietly, in that tone that Chris hated. "You think that will do any good?"

Chris kept working, pleased for one of the few times in the past twenty-eight interminable years that among these new talents he had was the ability to see in the dark. "Do more good when we get a bit made of silver, something he'll know is there. I'll get Ezra on that tomorrow."

Buck reached past him, one of his hands coming to rest on Chris'. His grip tightened as Chris tried to pull away, to pull free of the obstructing contact. "Buck," he said sharply, "get out of my way."

"JD told me what happened," Buck said, his grip still tight. "He also told me a few other things. Vin ain't eating - "

"Because of the silver, yeah, I heard. He hurts too much." The sneer on his face almost caused the shift, his features trying to take on their other, inhuman, form. He fought the impulse even as he shifted his weight, pushing back with his shoulder to try to shove Buck away.

But Buck was larger than he was and Buck had braced himself, prepared for Chris' move. "He does," Buck said shortly, his fingers bruising on Chris'. "But that's not all, and you know it. You've been with him, as much as I have."

Chris jerked his hand free of Buck's hold then used his momentum to jam his elbow into Buck's gut. The blow did push Buck back with a grunt, giving Chris the room to turn around and face him. "Yeah," he said shortly, "I have been. We left him for five days. They knew what he could do and they didn't handle it. Next time, we'll come back and they'll be dead and he'll be gone."

Buck shook his head, sighing. "Who are you mad at? Them or the demon? Or us?"

Chris snorted, annoyed. "All of it," he said shortly.

Buck's lips drew into a straight line, his lips thinning. After a time, he said, "He's not eating because he doesn't care any more. He's giving up."

"So?" Chris turned back around, putting the bridle back on the work table as he worked the other side of the metal into the leather. "Not like he's doing to die. We know that."

He tensed as he heard Buck move, but this time Buck eased up to lean on the table. He was close to Chris but not close enough to stop him. "You notice that he doesn't fight anymore, doesn't even resist? When we take from him, I mean. He used to not like it. But now, it's like he wants it to happen."

"Yeah, so?" Chris worked the hook into place, then started pulling the leather straps into place.

"You notice how sometimes he comes to us, that he's there when we wake up? That he offers his wrist or even his neck? Like he wants it?"

"He does want it," Chris shot back, ignoring the burning in his belly. "He wants the daevas put down, too, wants to be himself. What else could it be?" But even as the words left his mouth, he wished he could recall them, wished he could keep Buck from answering that.

"JD says he's lonely. That he needs contact. That he needs us – not just for the blood-letting." Buck leaned a little closer, not touching but more into Chris' working area. "He needs to feel things, Chris, just like we do. He needs not to be so alone."

Chris looked up at him, more words driven by anger climbing up into his mouth – words driven by fear, by the suggestion he knew Buck was making. "You want to start bringing women back to him? Maybe set him up a nice romantic dinner for her last meal? Hell, none of the rest of us can have a woman, so I guess it makes sense that he probably still can - "

"He gets aroused, just like we do. You know he does – you feel it, just like I do."

Chris jerked, his fingers fumbling the straps. "He make a move on you?" He twisted around to look at Buck. "He try anything – you should have told me - "

"No, Vin's never tried nothing," Buck put weight on the name. The demon had, trying as often as it could get control. "He make one on you? That why you're so mad at him?"

Chris stiffened. "Demon always does – that's why it's both of us, remember? We can't trust him, Buck, can't trust what he says, what he feels, what we feel - what the hell are you thinking?"

Buck held his gaze, his voice soft and his tone even. "I'm thinking that I know what I feel when I'm taking from him. And I know what you feel. Hell, we all know, from that first time, when you almost fucked him through the - "

"It's the goddamned demon," Chris snarled, throwing the bridle down on the rough wood of the work table. "You know it is - "

"I know what the demon smells like, tastes like, looks like – hard to miss. So do you." Buck leaned down just a little, enough for Chris to see his eyes. "It ain't the demon. It's Vin. You can feel him."

"So – what, he's turned into a - "

"He's turned into someone who we keep locked up, in pain, dead as much of the time as we can keep him that way. He may be alive, more alive than any of the rest of us. But he ain't living." He tilted his head, his dark eyes wide. "He hates what he does to us, to others, but he ain't got no control. JD said he vomited for hours after the demon left him and he realized what had happened to Josiah."

"He should have – he could have killed - "

"It wasn't him." Buck sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why is it so hard for you to accept that, that Vin is still in there, the man who was your friend? Didn't we just spend five days proving to ourselves that he ain't nothing else?" He let his hand drop back to his thigh where it made a soft slap. "He's still the same man that was our friend, the same man who was – who was willing to die for the rest of us."

"If he were in there, none of this would be happening," Chris answered, trying to ignore Buck's words. "If he were in there, he wouldn't get do the things he's done, he wouldn't let us to these things to us, he wouldn't let us touch him!" He took two steps coming in close to Buck, close enough to brush up against his chest.

Buck stepped back, his hands curling into fists. But instead of lashing out, as Chris expected, he made a noise that was close to a laugh. "That's your reasoning, then? That it ain't Vin because even after close to thirty years of being untouched, alone, he'd still fight that contact, still fight us?"

Chris pulled back his hand, ready to lash out, to wipe the smile off of Buck's face. It was a feeling he'd known often in the long years they'd been together. But as he pulled it up, the muscles of his shoulder bunching in anticipation, Buck looked at him.

"You angry because he needs us to remind him he's human, not some all-powerful god who can change our own natures? Or you angry because he's still got some part of his humanity and you want to take that from him?"

The words spiraled around in his head long enough to check the punch, long enough to make him even more angry but also to make him hesitate. Buck's words went on, calm and easy, as if he were telling Chris one of his many stories.

"You and me can't never see the sun again. We can't be with a woman without killing her – and you know how much that pains me. But we can be with people, we have to be with people. And we can be with each other, Chris, as we have been from time to time lately. As we have been for the last five days. The others can be with women and like us, they can walk away from here and forget about this for a time. But Vin can't. He can't never see anyone but us, the six of us. He can't be out of a cage unless he's so weak he can barely stand and even then, we have him chained up, just in case. Would you want to live that way? Would you call it living?" Buck shook his head but he didn't move either closer or away from Chris. "I know I wouldn't."

"So your solution is to – what?" Chris snarled, but his arm grew heavy and he slowly let it down. "You were one of the first to pull me off of him that first time. Now you're telling me to – what are you telling me to do, Buck? What, exactly?"

For the first time in a very long time, Chris had the pleasure of seeing Buck look uncomfortable. He looked away, even stepped back, and Chris didn't see the flush of blood but he could smell it as it flooded Buck's face. They might be abominations, but they still had some reactions that reminded them of being human.

Which was, of course, Buck's point. A point that Chris didn't want to hear, but now, smelling the rise of blood in Buck's face, knowing that it was a sign of his discomfort, Chris found his first amusement in a damned long time.

And with it, some sympathy, some compassion that he didn't want to feel.

"I don't know exactly what I'm suggesting," Buck said. "Except that Vin can't be with no one but you and me, and maybe we owe him more than what we've been taking from him. He won't ask anything of any of us other than to take from him, to hold the demon down – he don't feel like he deserves it. But he needs it. And think about this: if you don't want to do it for the man he was, for the friend he was and probably still is, then think about how hard it's going to be to handle the demon if we don't have Vin fighting him from within. You remember how he was days before we left, when the demon was in control? JD says he gave up a while back – you think maybe the demon ain't getting stronger, which is what we been thinking, but that Vin's stopped fighting him because he don't have no reason to live anymore?"

Chris closed his eyes, too many thoughts colliding in his head. This wasn't right, wasn't the way he wanted to think about Vin – Vin, the man he had known. The man he had called friend. It was easier to think of that man as dead, replaced by this evil, devious thing that looked like Vin but wasn't.

But as he stood with his eyes closed, his memory offered up the sight of Vin six days ago, when Chris had drawn him to one side of the cage, tilting his head before sinking his own fangs into the taut skin of Vin's long, lean neck. Vin hadn't resisted. And as soon as Chris had touched him, one hand on Vin's chin to position his head, he'd smelled the musk of arousal, felt the quickening of his heartbeat.

Felt his submission and his desire.

As Vin's blood had coursed over his tongue, he had felt the need. It wasn't in the blood, in the taste, but it was something else, an emotion that seemed to come from outside of Chris.

It was something that came from Vin. And it had come with fear and loathing and a strong desire to lay down and do nothing.

Not the Vin he'd known. Not the man he'd known. But as Buck said, none of them were the men they had been.

"Ain't like you don't know what to do," Buck went on, his words soft, weaving their way into Chris' head. "We been turning to each other for a while now – and I ain't complaining, I hope you know that, 'specially after these past few days. While it ain't my first choice, or your first choice, it's a choice. It's what we can do. Vin . . . we can do that for him, too. We should do that for him, if it will make things a little easier for him. Give him a reason to fight."

Chris knew what Buck was suggesting. Even as his mind rebelled against it, his body had its own response. He blew out a breath and opened his eyes. "You think that will work? Just touching?"

Buck shrugged. "Can it hurt?" he asked instead.

Chris sighed, having no idea. "What if it calls out the demon?" he asked. "After all, the demon does like – well, you know."

"Yeah, I know, the great seducer." Buck smiled again. "Hell, that should have been me!" But as he said it, Chris saw the smile slip away. Buck had never forgiven himself for the fact that it had been Vin that the demon invaded. Vin who had distracted it from Buck, having no idea what he was getting himself into.

Not that Chris believed for a minute that Vin would have done anything different. Because he wouldn't have. Because he had been Vin Tanner.

And he was still Vin Tanner, when the demon wasn't in control.

Chris shook his head, looking once more at Buck. "Why me?" he asked. "If you knew this, why didn't you do this?"

Buck shrugged and grinned again, but as before it didn't reach his eyes. "It ain't me he needs," he answered. "It ain't me he worries most about disappointing. He knows I'd do anything in the world for him, and I think he worries that I'd offer something out of – I don't know, guilt? After all this time, don't seem that he knows me all that well, does it."

Chris snorted, amused despite himself. Buck had been the one to take the first step between the two of them, almost a year ago. It had happened after a long period of traveling through the wilds of Mexico, trying to find a rumored library in an old Spanish mission that had disappeared two centuries before. They's traipsed about for several months, the search taking them far away from places where Buck and Chris could feed.

One night, after an especially desperate feeding on a couple of horse thieves who wandered too close to their own camp, Buck had reached out to Chris, wiping away a trickle of blood at the corner of Chris' lips.

The touch had made Chris shiver. From habit, from instinct, Buck had stuck his blood-covered finger in his mouth. Something had passed between them, then, as Buck tasted the same blood that was in Chris' mouth. With no thought on either of their parts, they'd found themselves kissing, rubbing against each other, then Buck's hand was in Chris' pants and it had been more than enough.

The second time it had happened, Chris had accidentally bitten Buck – not hard, but hard enough to break the skin and share blood. The connection between them had been so intense that they had both come on the spot – and the orgasm had seemed to go on forever, each of them feeling some of what the other one was.

For a while, it'd been hard to keep their hands off of each other, to the point that Chris had begun to worry that the others would notice. Or that the demon in Vin had caused something.

Buck stepped in close then, but this time, Chris let him. "We took five days away, Chris, just you and me. You think it's still the demon? 'Cause I don't. I think it's us – you and me." He reached down, catching one of Chris' hands and drawing it up to his mouth.

Chris knew what he was going to do – they'd done it at dusk, when they'd awakened, biting and kissing – and fucking, long and hard and deep. It hadn't been the first time in the five days – nights, really – that they'd been away.

He knew now that it wouldn't be the last, either. And he knew it wasn't Vin or the part of the daevas that lived in Vin's body.

He tensed as Buck's face started to change, his fangs stretching as his jaw distended. "No," he said softly, pulling his hand free before Buck could bite. "Not now. We need to take care of him."

The shift back to his normal human face was so fast that Chris didn't see it, just the easy smile. "You mean - "

"Not that way, not tonight," Chris said, holding up his hand. But he let it move a few inches to rest against Buck's chest. "Did you know any of this before we left?"

"About Vin? No, not in the way you mean. I suspected that he was giving up, but I didn't know how much." He looked down to where Chris' hand rested over the place where his heart no longer beat. "He deserves this, too."

Chris started to pull away but Buck rested one of his hands over Chris', holding it in place.

"None of this is his fault – never has been. Just like none of it is your fault, or mine, or JD's, or any of us. The damned gypsies didn't give us a book to let us know what to do or what to expect. We're learning it the hard way." His skin was cool against Chris', the coolness of death. "We'll figure it all out. It's just going to take time." He moved slowly, bending down and close enough for Chris to stop him.

Chris didn't. The kiss was soft and full of affection. It was the way their friendship had been before the gypsies, before death, before their first sex. And every time since.

Afterward, as Chris licked at his lips, tasting blood and smoke and whiskey, he asked, "You going to be all right with this, with me . . . and him?"

Buck chuckled, the sound one Chris had known for so long that it was like coming home. "I ain't never been able to make promises, you know that. Don't reckon I need them now." He leaned in, throwing a long arm around Chris' shoulders. "And who's to say I ain't going to get involved too?" Buck's eyebrows rose and fell several times in a manner that was as familiar as the chuckle. "Hell, you're damned fine, but he's got a damned devil inside him – reckon what he can do, huh?"

Despite himself, Chris found himself laughing. Actually laughing. He couldn't remember when he'd done that last. Not in the past decade, he was pretty sure.

Buck drew him forward toward the door to the stable. The horses shifted, snorted, behaved like the animals they were. Because some things were constant in the world. And it was those things they were protecting.

As he stepped into the dark, he turned back. The bridle he'd been making lay on the desk, his improved vision discerning it clearly. The bit had been a cut-bit, designed to draw blood if the horse resisted. He had been that angry. That confused. It would have been easier if it had been the demon, but it wasn't.

"We are what we are," Buck murmured. "And we'll do what we have to do. Just like we always have."

Chris nodded. Hard to argue with the truth of it. "Let's go check on Vin. No promises, though, so don't get any ideas."

Buck chuckled again, his arm drawing Chris along. "I hear you, stud. I hear you."


End file.
